


Precious Moments

by jackabelle73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9356900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackabelle73/pseuds/jackabelle73
Summary: A series of ficlets, depicting everyday moments in Gideon's childhood that Belle and Rumple almost didn't get to have. This verse is open for prompts.





	1. Sunrise Swinging

Belle stifled a yawn against Rumple’s arm as he opened the gate and Gideon dashed inside, his chubby legs carrying him toward the swing set. The early-morning dew still covered the grass, which came up past his ankles. His favorite sneakers would be soaked before they left, but an excited three-year-old who had pried his parents out of bed before sunrise for a playground visit, could hardly be expected to worry about such things.

Belle yawned again, resting her head against his upper arm. She had her arm looped through his as well, and didn’t let go even when it was awkward to maneuver through the gate together. Rumple managed to get them through and close the gate behind them.

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” he told the top of her head. “I told you I’d bring him. You could have stayed in bed for a few more hours.”

“I wanted to,” she answered, sounding half asleep. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Mommy, will you push me on the swing?” Gideon called. He was attempting to pull himself up onto the seat but it kept moving out of reach every time he jumped backward.

“I’ll push you, son. Mommy is going to sit down and wake up with a cup of tea.” He held out his free hand and a to-go cup from Granny’s appeared there with a poof. He pointed to the bench at the side of the playground. “You can sit; I’ll push him.”

She took the cup with a smile, but instead of the bench sat down on the swing next to Gideon, still trying to get up there. Rumple walked behind him and reached over to hold him under his arms.

“You’re almost there, m’boy. Just going to give you a boost. Ready? One…two…three!” The small jeans-clad bottom finally settled on the seat, and Gideon kicked his feet in excitement.

“I did it, Papa!” He grasped the chains and leaned back to look at Rumple upside down, a wide smile splitting his face.

“You did indeed. Now hold on tight!”

Gideon tightened his fingers, swinging his legs before Rumple could even give him the first push.

“High, Papa! Want t’go high!”

Rumple gave another push as he caught Belle’s eye. She was watching their son on the swing as she sipped her tea, looking slightly more awake. Feeling his gaze, she glanced at him and her mouth quirked a smile before returning her attention to the child now swinging through the air.

He knew why she’d insisted on coming; knew that after her visit to the dream realm during Gideon’s delivery, she never passed up a chance to make good memories in a playground. So she was here, even though the sun was just starting to peek over the tree line and they’d been up in the middle of the night with their boy, to soothe him after a nightmare. Those bad dreams seemed to plague Gideon more often than most children his age, and Dr. Hopper had theorized that some part of him remembered growing up in the Dark Realm. So the middle-of-the-night wakings were unfortunately a common occurrence.

He’d offered to stay up with him alone, of course—Dark Ones didn’t need much sleep, even if they liked to sleep sometimes just to cuddle close to their True Love. But there were times that Gideon demanded his Mommy. So he’d gotten both of them, last night, crammed into his toddler bed with him in the middle—thank goodness neither of them were large people.

Rumple had watched them both, in the dim glow of the nightlight, as Belle held Gideon to her chest and whispered to him soothingly, till at last the nightmare faded and he dropped back off to sleep. By then, Gideon had worked himself to a position lying on top of his mother, and there was no chance of her being able to extract herself without waking him again.

So Rumple had put his arm under her head to act as a pillow, and held them both as he dropped kisses on first his son’s forehead, then his wife’s, murmuring to her that she was the most wonderful mother in all the realms. He’d seen what happened when a woman didn’t want to be a mother, when she resented her child for all the little demands made around the clock. But Belle treated every day with Gideon as a gift, every moment a treasure.

She wasn’t the only one. They’d come so close to not being able to raise Gideon from infancy. But they’d been blessed with a second chance, and neither of them wanted to squander it. And so they found themselves here in the pre-dawn moments, as the entire world held its breath in anticipation of the new day, and the only sound was the squeak of the swing.

The sun managed to slip over the horizon, making the dew on the grass sparkle and catching Gideon’s attention. He stopped pumping his legs, letting his swing slow.

“Pretty,” he whispered.

Belle raised her face with eyes closed to the first rays of the sun, and looking between wife and child, Rumple couldn’t help but agree with Gideon’s assessment.

“Mommy! Race me!” Gideon shouted, breaking the spell and starting to swing again.

Belle laughed, and placed her cup on the ground next to her, adjusting her balance on the seat and pushing off with her toes in the dirt.

“I’ve been practicing,” she warned him. “I might beat you this time!”

“Nuh-uh! Me win! Me the swing king!” His little legs were pumping faster, even as Rumple gave him an extra push and cautioned him to hang on tight.

Belle laughed as her swing reached its highest backward arc next to Rumple and then started to descend, her hair rippling behind her. She’d go high enough to make Gideon work for his win, but would never surpass him. They always let him win, because they’d already won everything.


	2. Tummy Time

For the first few months of Gideon’s life, they barely set him down. One of them was always holding him, even when he slept.

Belle had never been so grateful that her husband didn’t need to sleep, as after they brought a newly-infant Gideon home. He seemed to cry more than most babies, but not for any physical reason that Dr. Whale could find. He was calmer when being held.

Rumple would sit up with him all night, rocking him or walking the halls, while Belle slept. He brought the baby to her only to nurse, which she insisted upon. She was too aware of how close she’d come to never knowing the contentment of her baby at her breast, so Rumple brought Gideon to her in the night for his feedings. After three months, when her milk supply and Gideon’s nursing habits seemed well established, she agreed to one bottle of expressed milk each night. It gave her more uninterrupted sleep, and it made Rumple happy.

During the day, one of them would wear him in a baby carrier as they went about their respective jobs. Whoever didn’t have him that day, would cross the street often to check on him, just for the comfort of stroking his hair and smelling his baby scent—all the sensory confirmations that he was here, he was theirs, and he was safe.

It was when Gideon was about four months old that the law was finally laid down by _Regina_ , of all people…someone Belle didn’t think she’d ever take advice from.

“For god’s sake, put that baby down once in a while!” she snapped at them both, when she came into Granny’s for lunch and saw them fawning over Gideon. “You’re stunting his development.”

“Move along, dearie. Your opinion isn’t wanted,” Rumple said, not looking up from where he was lightly tickling Gideon under the chin, getting adorable gurgles in response.

“Belle knows I’m right,” Regina responded. “I’m sure she’s read every book on child development in the library. If you don’t lay him down on his stomach each day, he’ll never develop his neck muscles. He’ll never learn to roll over, crawl, or walk. Do you plan to still carry him around when he’s five?”

She left after Rumple glared at her, but her words sparked a niggling doubt in Belle’s mind. She _had_ read all the child development books, and they _did_ advise that a child be allowed time when they were not being held, so they learned to move on their own and their muscles could strengthen.

While Rumple was in the shower that night, Belle spread out a blanket, gathered a few toys, and laid Gideon down on his tummy. He tried to raise his head to look at her, but his forehead thumped against the blanket almost immediately as he whimpered. His limbs flailed for a moment, then he stiffened his entire body and wailed his displeasure to the world.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Mommy’s here.” Her heart breaking, Belle laid down on the floor facing her son and waved one of the soft rattle toys in front of his face. He managed to hold his head up to look at it for just a couple seconds, his entire body quivering, before he collapsed again.

A thumping on the stairs announced Rumple’s arrival. He rushed in wearing a bathrobe, hair dripping.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes darted everywhere, looking for possible dangers. Seeing nothing to cause alarm, he strode over to his family on the floor. “Why aren’t you holding him, Belle?”

Levering up on one elbow, she used her other arm to block him from picking Gideon up.

“He’s fine, Rumple.”

Gideon’s cries increased to a shriek, determined to contradict her. He was most certainly _not_ fine, his sobs communicated. He’d been abandoned on the cold hard floor for the first time in his short life. Both of his parents were _right there_ , where he could see them and hear them. Why wasn’t he being held?

“He’s crying!” Face creased with concern, he tried to reach past her.

“Rumple, stop!” she commanded. Apparently, she’d have to play the role of strict parent. “We can’t hold him his entire life. He needs this, so he can learn to crawl and walk.”

“This is about what Regina said. You’re really taking parenting advice from her?”

“When everything I’ve read agrees with her, then yes.” She sat up, trying to ignore Gideon’s continued protests, and softened her tone as she laid a hand on Rumple’s arm. “You know he needs this, Rumple. You were a father before, you know what a baby needs.”

“He needs to know his parents are there for him, always.” He reached out and stroked a hand down the small back, attempting to soothe him.

“He does know that. He always will. He’ll also learn to crawl, and walk, and before we know it he’ll be running. We need to let go of him, Rumple. So he can learn all those things. It starts here.” He looked at their son, whose cries had tapered off to hiccupping whimpers. “C’mon,” Belle invited, lying back down and patting the floor. “Help me distract him for just one more minute. Then we’ll pick him up and we’ll try this again tomorrow.”

Gideon had given up for the moment and laid his head down on the blanket, the image of desolation.

Resigned, Rumple laid down next to her and tapped their son’s hand to get his attention. “Gideon? Lift your head, son. We know you can do this.”

Trembling with exertion, Gideon raised his head and looked right at them.

Belle gave an exaggerated gasp, as if she’d never seen a feat more remarkable. “There he is,” she cooed. “There’s our strong boy.”

“Yes, he is,” Rumple agreed, smiling.

Gideon blinked at them once, before dropping his head.

“That was a good try, sweetheart,” Belle murmured. She sat up and cuddled him safely in her arms, for just a _little_ longer.


	3. First Steps

“Here you go now, son. You can do this.”

Carefully, Rumple pried most of his fingers from Gideon’s chubby grip, till only his index fingertips were still being held. Gideon swayed in his footsy pajamas, refusing to let go and relinquish his final safety net, as Belle sat cross-legged on the floor just a couple feet away and called to him.

“Come to Mommy, sweetheart.” She held her hands out to him, just out of his reach.

At nearly fourteen months, he had yet to take his first unassisted steps. He’d cruise along quite happily on the edges of the antique furniture in the Victorian, and zoom around with his push toys at remarkable speeds for someone who couldn’t take a single unsupported step without falling, and he loved to walk while holding his parents’ hands, for as long as they would indulge him. But he still wasn’t walking on his own, and Rumple was starting to worry that perhaps they’d indulged him too much.

Gideon whined and took a step, still holding his father’s fingers in a death grip, trying to get to his mother. With effort—how could someone so small, be so damned _strong?_ —Rumple got his fingers free and instead held Gideon around his middle, forcing him to do more of the work to hold his upper body up, and freeing his hands to reach for Belle.

“Mum-uh,” he said.

“Just one step, my brave boy, and Mommy will catch you,” she promised.

Holding his breath, Rumple let go and waited to see what the small boy would do. Gideon leaned forward, as far as he could without actually moving his feet, reaching for Belle…then overbalanced and forward onto his hands, starting to cry.

Rumple picked him up to soothe him. A face wet with tears nuzzled into his neck and the little arms clung to him as he rubbed his baby’s back.

“We probably shouldn’t have tried this right before bedtime,” Belle sighed. “Let’s get him to sleep and we can try again tomorrow morning, when he’s rested.”

He nodded agreement and, still holding their son, followed Belle up the stairs for Gideon’s bedtime routine.

The next morning, with mashed bananas from breakfast still smeared down the front of his pajamas and probably in his ear canals as well, knowing their son—Gideon was once again between them as they cajoled him to take just one step.

Once again, Rumple steadied the toddler with hands at his waist, then slowly let go, giving him a chance to find his balance. Gideon wobbled but stayed upright, expressing his opinion of this situation with a very articulate ‘guh’ as his hands opened and closed, beseeching Belle to come to him.

Keeping his hand low, Rumple wiggled his fingers in Gideon’s direction. Just a little support, just the smallest of nudges…

“Rumplestiltskin, don’t you dare,” Belle said, without taking her eyes off their son. “We talked about that.”

“Actually, _you_ talked about it,” he corrected her, but dropped his hand. “I didn’t seem to get a vote.”

Gideon picked one foot up the barest fraction off the ground, but immediately pitched forward into Belle’s arms. She caught him and set him upright on his feet again, facing his father this time.

“He’ll get there on his own,” she said, looking at him over Gideon’s shoulder. “He’ll walk when he’s ready. We can’t rush him. And using magic to help him would be cheating.”

“It’s not cheating,” he protested, even as he held his hands out for Gideon’s next attempt. “I just want him to succeed, that’s all. I’m trying to help him build his confidence.”

“His accomplishments should be his own,” Belle said firmly, releasing her hold on Gideon. “When he takes his first steps, it’ll be because he did it, not because magic did it for him. Now come on, sweetheart, one more try before we all get ready for work.”

An hour later, with still no successfully executed steps, Rumple parted ways from his family at the door of the library with a kiss for both. Belle always took Gideon to the library on Tuesday mornings because she held toddler story time at 10:00 am. Rumple would take him for the afternoon.

After a quiet morning spent repairing an old automaton toy that he thought might amuse his boy, he met them to walk over to Granny’s for lunch. They’d barely settled into their usual booth, Gideon on his father’s lap, when Neal Nolan came through the door with his parents and made a beeline for them.

“Can Gee-don pway?” he asked, peering over the edge of the table. Gideon kicked his feet in excitement at the sight of someone close to his size.

“You’re sweet to ask, Neal,” Belle answered him, leaning over to speak on his level. “But Gideon hasn’t had his lunch. Besides, he can’t walk yet and we don’t want him to crawl on the diner floor.”

Neal’s face scrunched adorably. “No walk?” He looked at Gideon, who stared back with just as much interest. “Why no walk, Gee-don?”

“Wah-wah-wah!” was the answer given, accompanied by a fist beating on the table.

“Neal…” David was urging his son toward their own booth where Snow was sitting down. “Time for lunch.”

“No, Daddy. Gee-don walk,” Neal told him, with all the self-assurance of a toddler accustomed to things going his way. He climbed up onto the seat next to Rumple and took Gideon’s hand, tugging him along as he backed off the bench and stood on the floor again.

“Neal, I don’t think–” Belle started, but Rumple was already lowering Gideon to the floor. “Rumple, what are you doing?”

“Let’s see what happens,” he said, making sure Gideon had his feet under him before letting go.

With a bemused look, David stepped back to give the two toddlers some room.

“C’mon,” Neal said, with an impatient wave at Gideon, and walked away without looking back, seemingly prepared to saunter out the front door of Granny’s and lead a parade down Main Street.

Left behind, Gideon whined in protest…. then took a step after him. Then another. And another, his movements stiff and awkward but staying upright and moving forward. Rumple held his breath, and knew without looking at Belle was doing the same, as their son took a total of five steps before losing his balance and plopping down on his diaper-padded bottom with an indignant yelp.

Before either of them could leave their seat to pick him up, Neal was in front of Gideon, bending down to give him a hug.

“You okay,” he told him.

Looking away from their son for the first time since he’d put him on the floor, Rumple looked across to Belle to see her eyes bright with tears. He reached across to hold her hand and squeeze it in reassurance. Yes, their son would be okay.

Behind the two boys still on the floor, a waitress walking around them carefully lest she trip on the young prince and the son of the Dark One, Snow was lowering her phone.

“I got video,” she grinned. “Want me to send it to you?”

“Please,” he answered, finally getting up to retrieve Gideon, to wrap him in his arms and tell him what a big boy he was, as Neal was led away by his parents. The video would be no doubt be watched countless times, but he wouldn’t need it to remember this moment.

Belle knelt on the floor with them, putting her arms around them and giving Gideon a kiss. A loudly-cleared throat behind her, made Rumple look up. Granny stood there, tapping her pen on her note pad.

“You think you might wanna stop blocking foot traffic in my diner, and order some food?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This verse is always open for prompts, for any stage of Gideon's childhood.


	4. Many Books Tall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @woodelf68 on Tumblr, who asked me what Rumbelle would use to measure Gideon’s growth. This ficlet had a mind of its own and went off in a different direction than I expected.

Belle maneuvered her step ladder closer as Gideon sighed, letting them know that he was just humoring them. He stood with his back to the bookcase, ramrod straight and head level, waiting.

The bookcase was a sturdy thing, and a work of art all on its own. She’d asked Leroy and Geppetto to work on it together, creating it from wood from the forest just outside Storybrooke. Leroy had built the framework, with a sturdy base and six shelves, and had been the one to install it in Gideon’s nursery, anchoring it securely to the wall so there was no chance of an adventurous toddler pulling the bookcase down on himself when he got the idea to climb it. Geppetto had been responsible for the carvings displayed on the top and bottom of the bookcase, telling stories in intricately rendered symbols and pictures.

When she had the ladder in position, she slipped off her shoes and walked up the steps, gaining enough height to put a ruler on her son’s head and make a mark on the wood. The new mark was only a fraction above the last one—Gideon hadn’t grown much in the last year. He’d done all his growing as a young teen, shooting up so fast that she’d asked Rumple at one point if their boy was using some sort of growth spell on himself.

Her husband stood a few feet away now, arms crossed and watching the little ritual with a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was trying his damndest to not show how this day was affecting him, but he was fooling no one.

Belle turned to step down the ladder, then stifled a yelp as Gideon grasped her around the waist and simply lifted her down.

“Warn me before you do that!” she scolded, swatting his arm.

“Couldn’t resist,” he said, unrepentant. “I won’t get a chance to do that again for a while.”

He was smirking at her, in that way that had infuriated her when he was a snarky, disrespectful adolescent, but gods it was making her want to cry now. His smile was so like his father’s.

“So!” He clapped his hands and turned back to look at the mark she’d made. “How many books tall?”

“You still remember that?” she laughed.

“Of course I do.” Gideon gestured as he talked, and Belle smiled to see it. He got that from his father too. “I was helping you shelve books in the library…well, helping in the way a four-year-old does, meaning I felt it would be more fun to find out how many books I’d have to stack up to be as tall as me.”

“And then at noon that day, you met me in Granny’s for lunch,” Rumple continued the story. “And proudly proclaimed for all to hear that you were eight hundred and sixty-three point five books tall.”

“The Dewey Decimal number on the top book.” Belle crossed her arms, as if it would help her to contain all the emotions within.

Gideon nodded. “For years after, I insisted on being measured in books. Why’d we stop, anyway?”

“We stopped when you got old enough to think that it was a silly tradition, and refused to stand still for it,” Rumple reminded him.

“Maybe I don’t think it’s so silly anymore,” he murmured, stepping up to the bookcase to run his fingers over the spines of the books.

These shelves held his favorite books from each stage of childhood. His toddler books and early readers were on the bottom shelves, beginning chapter books on the next, middle school offerings in the middle, and grown-up reading on the top shelf. They stayed here, even though Gideon hadn’t lived in this room since he was a young child. This had been his nursery, and the rocking chair where they’d rocked him to sleep was still in the corner. He’d moved to a larger room down the hall when he was five, but the mementos of his early childhood were still here, and he’d continued to keep his very favorite books on these shelves.

He turned from the books now, and smiled at them. “What do you say we do it once more, for old times’ sake?” He stepped away from the shelf to allow room and nodded at Rumple. “Father, if you would?”

Rumple quirked a brow at him, but circled his fingers toward the books. Belle stepped closer to her husband, looping an arm through his and watching as stories floated off the shelves, stacking themselves one atop another next to their impossibly tall son, held in place by magic till the last one was level with the top of his head.

Gideon made a show of putting a hand on top of the highest book and skimming across to his head, making sure the tower was high enough to give him credit for every inch.

“How many books, Mother?”

She gave him a watery smile. “I’m afraid that Dewey doesn’t have a classification for you, sweetheart.”

“No. I suppose not. Well–” He gestured carelessly and the books re-shelved themselves, waiting for someone to come along and read them. “I suppose it’s time for me to go.”

“Before you do, son, I have something for you.”

Belle released her hold on Rumple’s arm so he could reach into his jacket pocket, and dabbed at her wet eyes.

He pulled out three necklaces, each with a dark red stone hanging from a pendant. He looped one around his own neck, then around Belle’s, letting his fingers linger on her skin for a moment. She met his eyes and nodded.

He stepped up to their son, holding the chain out in both hands, and waited for Gideon to lower his head before looping it around his neck. Before Gideon could stand up again, Rumple grasped his head with both hands and pulled him down till their foreheads touched, and spoke, his voice raw with emotion.

“No matter where you go, in any realm, no matter where we go, these amulets will always lead us back to each other. Understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

Rumple gave him a hug then released him and Belle stepped up, laughing at how far he had to bend down to hug her.

“‘How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard,’” she quoted through her tears.

He released her from the hug and kissed her once on the forehead before stepping back.

“Till next time, then.” He gave that enigmatic smile once again, before waving his hand and disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

*

Three months later, Belle was working in the library when she felt a curious vibration on her chest. Lifting the long chain from under her shirt, she held up the amulet. For the first time since Rumple put it on her, it was glowing bright red.

With a gasp, she dropped the books on the floor and ran. Out of the library, across the street, flinging open the door to the pawn shop so that the bell clattered to the floor. Rumple was already coming out of the back room to meet her.

“Belle!”

“Rumple! Is yours?” She held the amulet up.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a smile, reaching out to pull her into his embrace.

“Does it mean–”

Magic pulsed through the shop, and they turned as one to look.

Gideon lowered his hood, and held out his arms to them with a happy grin of homecoming. “Hello, Mother. Hello, Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this verse is open for prompts for any stage of Gideon's childhood. (Up to and including the end of his childhood, as depicted in this chapter!)


	5. Baby Babble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by an anon on Tumblr.

A series of consonants and vowels drifted down the hall, carried along on the motes drifting lazily in the early-morning sunshine that filtered through the hallway windows. Rumple smiled to himself, though he made no attempt to get up yet. Babbling like that meant that Gideon had woken happy, that he was content to amuse himself for a while with the board book in his crib, or the toy aquarium strapped to the railing that played music and lit up, or even his own toes.  As long as he sounded happy, Rumple was content enough to lie here with Belle held snugly to his side, and let his son wait a bit. Mornings like this helped to make up for the ones when Gideon woke up hysterically screaming because he’d had a bad dream, or his foot got stuck through the rails, or he threw his lovey out of the crib and decided a nanosecond later that he wanted it back. Or that he had a dirty diaper, gods forbid….as if he hadn’t been wearing diapers for the entirety of his nearly year-long existence.

Beside him, Belle stirred, turning her face more fully into his chest to rub against him like a cat. Yes, this definitely beat bolting out of bed before their eyes were even open, rushing down the hall to answer their son’s panicked crying.

“S’he awake?” came the sleepy question. He dropped a kiss on her forehead.

“Yes, but he’s happy for now. I’ll get him in a few minutes. Go back to sleep, Belle.”

She hummed an unintelligible response and relaxed against him again, but he knew she wasn’t really asleep. They laid together, just breathing, enjoying each other’s existence and the knowledge that their son was healthy and happy down the hall.

The tone of his babbling changed, the pitch going up and the nonsense noises changing from gibberish that flowed in one endless sentence, to demanding staccato syllables.

“Muh-muh-muh-muh,” he chanted. Belle stirred again.

“He’s calling me,” she murmured, pushing up on her elbow and brushing her hair from her eyes.

“He’s babbling nonsense, like he has been for fifteen minutes,” he corrected her. “Lie back down if you want; I said I’d get him.”

“Well, I won’t say no to a little extra sleep. But he’s clearly calling me, Rumple. What else do you think muh-muh means?”

“It means he’s experimenting with language like all babies do. Don’t assign meaning where there is none. He says puh-puh just as often; I don’t claim he’s calling me.” He threw back the blankets and stood, expecting Belle to lie back down. Instead, she sat up fully, crossing her legs under the covers and regarding him with that _look_ , the one that said she saw right through him.

“Rumplestiltskin. Don’t tell me that you’re getting all defensive over the possibility that Gideon will say Mama first.” Gods, but she was beautiful, with her sleep-mussed hair tumbling around her shoulders and her eyes bright with mirth.

He pulled on a robe as he answered. “Is it such a bad thing, that I can’t wait to hear my son call me Papa?”

“Of course not,” she answered, her voice softer. He focused on tying the sash of the robe. “Rumple, look at me.” He glanced up to see her hand outstretched, and took it, feeling comfort in her light grip. “What was Bae’s first word?”

He shrugged, trying not to let old memories color the present. “Mama…even though I took care of him more often. He still said her name first.”

“Hey…” She sat up on her knees to be level with him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m assuming Milah nursed him.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “She did do that much. I took care of him the rest of the time.”

“Well, it’s hard not to acknowledge the person who’s your sole source of nourishment, but that’s just biology.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Bae knew how much you loved him. And Gideon loves his Papa. And he’s going to call you that any day now.”

She pulled his head down for a kiss, but both of them broke away as their baby let out a shriek that said he was done waiting, he wanted out of his crib _now_.

“I believe I hear him calling my name now,” he said ruefully, and gave her a gentle push back into the bed. “You lie back down; I’ll get him.”

He could feel her watching him as he proceeded down the hall to the nursery, and resolved that he wouldn’t let it matter to him whose name their baby said first. It was silly to even think about it; he knew that. What mattered was that their son was healthy and happy….and right this moment, pulling himself up on the bars of his crib, eyes lighting up and bouncing with unbridled joy at the sight of his papa. Rumple scooped him up, feeling security in the solid weight of him, the realness of his soft hair and chubby arms wrapping around his neck. This was what mattered.  

“What say we get you changed, hmm?” he asked, setting Gideon down on the changing table. “Today’s Sunday, so Mama and Papa will both be home with you all day. What do you want to do?”

His answer was another stream of gibberish, which Gideon kept up through the changing of his diaper and the trip downstairs to get breakfast. Belle joined them as Rumple was setting croissants and tea on the table. She dropped a kiss on Gideon’s head as he happily chased Cheerios around on his tray, occasionally managing to get a few in his mouth.

Sundays were truly wonderful, ever since their baby had been restored to them as a baby and he and Belle had reconciled. They seldom went anywhere, preferring to stay at home and enjoy their family time. They spent long hours on the floor with Gideon and his many toys, read to him from the mountain of children’s books that had been accumulating since he came home, and took it in turns to hold him, talk to him, and just enjoy him. If they were lucky, his afternoon nap lasted long enough for them to get some private time in their own bedroom. With his wife and son in his life, Rumple was happier than he’d been in centuries.

That afternoon, he waited in their bed for Belle to join him after she won the coin toss over who got to put Gideon down for his nap. Perhaps it was just his cock getting impatient, but it seemed to be taking longer than usual. So he found himself standing outside the nursery door to learn what was taking so long…. but found there was no need to look inside. He could hear Belle’s voice, talking softly.

“Sweetie, listen. Say Papa. Paaa…paaa.” She drew the syllables out, then switched tactics, making only a popping P sound with her lips. “Puh-puh-puh. Papa.” The only audible answer was a sleepy gurgle. “We’ll practice more after your nap, okay? And tomorrow, whenever Papa’s not around. It will make him so happy if you could say Papa to him.”

Rumple heard the creak of the rocking chair that signaled Belle was getting up and tip-toed back to their room. He stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, not sure how to feel. Belle was trying to tip the odds in his favor, encouraging Gideon to say Papa first. His ego wasn’t that fragile—was it? He’d decided this morning that it was silly to worry over whose name he would say first. His insecurities over his first parenting experience would not spoil this one, he promised himself as the mattress dipped next to him.

“Is he down?” he asked, opening his eyes to Belle’s bright blue ones above him.

“Hm-mmm.” She bent down to kiss him, her hair falling around them. “Let’s not waste time.”

The rest of their Sunday passed quietly, and they were all in bed early to prepare for the start of a new work week the next day. When Gideon cried out in the middle of the night, Rumple slipped from the bed to soothe him, not waking Belle. It was as he was rocking with the small body curled against him that he got an idea.

“Gideon? Can you say Mama? Maaa….maaa. Muh, muh, muh. Mama.” The baby snored softly in response, his body going boneless against his father’s. Rumple smiled against his hair. “Alright. We’ll try again tomorrow night, hmm? And we’ll practice in the shop tomorrow too.”

True to his word, he spent much of his morning the next day—his half of the day to have Gideon—practicing with his son, till the word ‘Mama’ had been repeated so often that it started to sound like a strange foreign language to him. Gideon would smile widely at this wonderful new game Papa was playing with him, and pat his mouth as if contemplating where the sound came from, and respond with his own vocalizations….none of which sounded the least like Mama.

Rumple sighed and continued his efforts that night when Gideon woke with a soiled diaper, and the next day, and the next…. he suspected that Belle was still practicing ‘Papa’ with their baby as well, but he hadn’t caught her in the act again.

The next Sunday, they miraculously woke before Gideon called them and entered the nursery together to see Gideon on his back, toes in his mouth and happily cooing to himself. His feet hit the mattress with a thump when he caught sight of them, rolling over on his belly to push himself up to a seated position and then stand with a wobble.

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” he called out, paying no mind to the drool dripping down his chin as he gripped the crib railing and jumped in excitement.

They both stopped, and looked at each other. Rumple could feel a smile spreading across his face; he’d done it, he’d gotten Gideon to say Mama first. She looked rather dismayed, though she was trying to hide it.

“Sounds like he’s calling you,” he told her, giving her a light push forward. She gave him another look, as if trying to ascertain how he really felt about this, but stretched out her hands to pick Gideon up.

Their baby paid her no mind, looking past her to Rumple. “Mama, Mama!” he chanted again, one little hand leaving the rail to reach toward Rumple in a pleading gesture.

“Umm….” Belle looked at Gideon, then at Rumple. “It seems…. he’s calling you.”

No, he couldn’t be. He’d clearly said Mama. And…Rumple was forced to admit, Gideon was clearly looking at his father, one wet hand opening and closing as if to beckon him closer. Just a few steps brought him to the crib railing, drawn by a force even more irresistible than his dagger. Demanding hands grabbed his shirt and Gideon attempted to pull himself up to be held, saying again, “Mama!” There was a measure of triumph in the word now.

Rumple glanced at Belle before reaching out to lift Gideon into his arms, relieved to see that she was amused by this turn of events.

Gideon patted his father’s mouth with a clumsy effort. “Mama.”

“Gideon…” Rumple switched his hold on the small body, cradling him to his side with one arm so he could point at Belle with the other hand. “Who’s that?”

“Papa!!” he shrieked, diving for his mother. She managed to catch him, and finally released the laughter she’d been holding in, looking at Rumple over their baby’s head.

“I’ve been trying to teach him to say Papa–”

“And I’ve been teaching him to say Mama–”

“Oh, sweetheart…now we’ve gone and confused you,” Belle told Gideon, who only beamed at her with one of his morning smiles, the one that said there was no better way to start the day than with his two favorite people. “I suppose we’ll have to re-teach you now, but it may take time.”

“Yes,” Rumple agreed. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around both of them and drawing them in. “But in the meantime, I don’t mind being Mama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Licieoic on Tumblr created gorgeous, emotional fanart for this series. You can see it here: http://licieoic.tumblr.com/post/158282770864/precious-moments-digital-oil-painting-this-is


	6. Someday

Gideon was going through a phase. At least, Belle hoped to the gods that it was just a phase. All the books she’d read agreed that it was natural for children his age to push limits. That was how they learned about the world, and their place in it. Testing the limits of imposed rules, and their own abilities, helped them to learn how much they were capable of, and that there were consequences for breaking rules. It all sounded very logical on paper.

None of the books ever said that she’d want to murder her own child.

“I want _extra_ brown sugar on my oatmeal,” he informed her again, his jaw set in a way that reminded her strongly of Rumple when he faced an adversary.

“Gideon, I’ve already told you no at least five times. I’m done discussing it. Eat your oatmeal or don’t, but we have to leave soon.”

“Granny puts extra! You stingy! You don’t share!” he accused.

“She does, does she?” She heard her tone and tried again to sound calm. “Mama will be having a talk with Granny about that.”

Her own breakfast was only half-eaten, but she’d lost her appetite. It was only nine-thirty in the morning, but she was exhausted from battling her son since before 7:00 am. Getting him dressed had taken nearly forty-five minutes, as he rejected every clothing option that was appropriate for the weather or came close to matching. She’d finally given up on the fashion issue, compromised further than she wanted on weather-appropriateness, and in the end, considered it a win that he was wearing clothes at all.

Standing up from the table, she scraped her plate into the trash can, wondering if she should take Gideon to Rumple for the morning. He’d left early to check a potion he’d left simmering at the shop the night before, but had mentioned no other special plans for the morning. Given the way she felt toward her son right now, it might be wise to give them both some breathing space.

“Are you done?” she asked as she put her plate in the dishwasher, carefully not looking at her son and trying to sound neutral. “We need to leave soon; it’s almost time for the library to open.”

When he didn’t answer, she turned to look at him. Gideon’s eyes glittered at her dangerously over his bowl, as he breathed heavily through his nose. His small fists clenched on the tabletop.

“Someday,” he said through gritted teeth, barely moving his lips, “I’ll be big, and you’ll be _little_.”

Belle couldn’t help it…she didn’t want to ridicule him, but the small chuckle she tried to hold in broke free, till she was laughing so hard that tears slipped from her eyes. When she finally straightened up, dabbing at her face with a napkin, Gideon looked puzzled…and a little affronted that his threat (for he had clearly meant it as a threat) had been met with laughter.

“Sweetheart…” Belle crossed the room to kneel next to his chair. “You have no idea how true that is.”

“Mama?” he asked, confused.

“Why don’t you finish your oatmeal, and we’ll head to the library. I think I can find a book that will help explain.”

He hesitated, but the tension that had been building between them all morning as they butted heads, had been broken. Belle smiled, and dropped a kiss on his hair as she sat next to him, pulling out her phone. There was the scrape of spoon against bowl as she sent a text to Rumple, then one to Henry.

When Gideon saw his papa and uncle waiting in front of the library doors for them as they arrived, he ran to them. Henry picked him up and tossed him into the air, eliciting squeals from the little boy as he caught him.

“Again! Again!”

“What am I, a second-class citizen?” Rumple asked, holding his arms out. Gideon launched himself from Henry’s arms to Rumple’s with all the assurance of a young child that his father would always catch him, and smooshed Rumple’s cheeks to give him a kiss. His duty done there, he threw himself back into Henry’s arms, equally confident that his uncle would never let him fall.

Belle never tired of watched Henry with Gideon. He’d shown himself to be a natural with him, ever since their son was born. She’d feared that all the complicated history between Rumple, herself, and the rest of Henry’s family would cause him to keep his distance from their son. Instead, he’d embraced the role of uncle, always letting Gideon know that he was treasured and loved by more people than just his parents. He also seemed to consider it his sacred duty to educate Gideon on what she thought of as ‘boy things’ and the pop culture that Storybrooke’s population was more than a little spotty on. More than once, he’d offered to watch Gideon for an evening so Rumple and Belle could have a date night. They’d usually come back to Henry asleep on the couch with Gideon sprawled on his chest, popcorn and candy wrappers scattered about, and the end credits of an animated film playing on the TV screen.

“We go to playground?” Gideon asked Henry now.

“Not today, Gid. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to show you something.” He patted the leather bag that hung at his side, nodding to Belle.

She unlocked the library door and led the way in, flipping the lights on as Henry asked Gideon where he wanted to sit.

“Over there!” he exclaimed, and ran for the children’s corner to throw himself down on one of the brightly colored bean bags scattered about the area.

Belle led Rumple to the circulation desk where they could see and hear the boys in the children’s corner, but were far enough away to give them the illusion of privacy.  

“Is he too young for this story?” she asked him, with a flash of last-minute doubt.

“I asked Henry to ease him into it, maybe show him a couple other stories before his own.”

“But when he does see his story, what if the message he takes away from it, is that he’s destined to be a villain?”

“Then I can’t think of anyone better than you, to teach him that he decides his own fate.” He took her hand between both of his.

“And I can’t think of anyone better than you, to teach him that it’s never too late to change, and choose a new destiny.” He smiled, raising her hand to kiss it, and she knew he was thinking of how much his life had changed since they’d first held newborn Gideon between them in the mines.

“He’s not going to be a villain,” he assured her. “No child has ever been more loved than he is, and will continue to be. We can help him understand, Belle. Don’t worry.” They turned to watch the two boys as Henry pulled the book of fairy tales from his bag, and showed it to their son.

“Have you seen this book before, Gid?”

He shook his head, but looked intrigued. Gideon loved books, something that Belle took extraordinary pride in.

“Can I have it?”

“Sorry, you can’t keep it. This is a very special book, and it’s really important that I keep it safe. But I wanted to show you one of the pictures in it. C’mere.” He patted his lap, inviting Gideon to settle himself in the cradle of his crossed legs, and flipped the pages till he found the one he wanted. “Do you recognize these people?”

“That’s Papa. And that’s Mama.” He pointed at the page.

“Mm-hmm. And do you know who this man is?”

“No.”

“That’s you.”

“Me?” He grabbed the book from Henry’s hands, scrutinizing the illustration. “I’m…I’m _big_!” His mouth formed an O as he stared at the image of himself.

Belle was very familiar with the illustration. It depicted the moment that Gideon first come back from the Dark Realm as a tall, brooding adult, and walked into the pawn shop in his long black cloak to announce himself to his shocked parents.

“Yep. Someday, you’ll be taller than your mama, and your papa. And me. And…well, pretty much everyone we know.”

“Really?”

“Really. But you know…when you’re big, you have responsibilities. That’s like a job you have to do.”

“Like what?”

“Well, since you’ll be so tall, one of your jobs might be to reach things on high shelves for your mama. And maybe your papa too.”  Henry winked at both of them over Gideon’s head, and Belle smothered a grin as Rumple shot back an unimpressed look.

“I can do that! I’ma be _so_ big, I can reach anything!” Gideon bounced in Henry’s lap, and he laughed as he turned the pages of the book again.

“I want to show you another picture. Do you recognize them?”

“Uh-huh. That’s Mama, and that’s Papa in the ‘Chanted Forest.”

“That’s right. That’s them in the Dark Castle. And this is the story of how they met. Do you want to hear it?”

“Can I? Please?”

Henry looked their way again, eyebrows raised. After a shared glance with her husband, Belle nodded, so Henry leaned back into the bean bag and cleared his throat.

“Once upon a time, there was a castle near a town called Avonlea…”


	7. Kitten Touches & Butterfly Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was prompted by Stitcheskitty. Sorry for the wait, and I hope you like it!

It took some maneuvering, but they eventually found a position on the narrow hospital bed which enabled them to both hold her at the same time, and still allow Rumple to keep one arm around Belle. The entire experience had been harrowing, but their baby girl was here now and he wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Judging by the smile on Belle’s face as she cooed to their baby girl, she might not trade it either… though he suspected her answer might have been different during the worst contractions.

Witnessing her pain had been wrenching for him, and he’d wanted so badly to alleviate at least some of it. He’d even begged her at one point, to allow him to ease her delivery, and take away the agony that he could see on her face. But Belle had been adamant… no magic would be used during her pregnancy or labor and delivery. She wanted the normal experience that had been denied her the first time, and he couldn’t blame her for that. He thought surely she would change her mind when the pain became unbearable, but found that once again he’d underestimated his wife. She held firm throughout, and the baby held in her arms was brought into the world without magic.

He’d lived centuries and been a father twice before, but this was the first time he’d been present for the birth of his child. He still couldn’t believe that a few short hours ago, this small creature had been held safely inside Belle’s body, and now here she was, out in the world and her own person. He stroked a fingertip slowly down their newborn’s cheek, causing her to scrunch her face adorably.

“You’re finally here,” he whispered to her.

“Yes, she is.” Belle was whispering too, both of them loathe to disturb the first quiet moment they’d had with their baby since her birth.  “And you were here to catch her. Your hands were the first to touch her.”

One hand still cupping their daughter’s head, he turned to nuzzle Belle’s hair. It was sweaty and matted from her labor efforts, because she’d insisted that having these first moments together to bond with their newborn was more important than the nurses making her presentable. He agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Thank you, Belle. Thank you for giving me this gift. In all my centuries, I’ve never had this moment.”

She turned to lean her forehead against his, closing her eyes. Her voice was low and relieved.

“I’m so glad we got a second chance at a normal pregnancy. We were able to experience every step together, and now we’re here, with another happy beginning.” They turned back to their baby and were quiet for a moment, lost in adoring worship of the small blanket-wrapped bundle held in their arms. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“No… nothing I’ve thought of seems right. Especially now that I’ve met her.”

Belle had insisted throughout her pregnancy that Rumple should choose their second baby’s name. It was only fair, she’d told him, since she’d chosen Gideon’s name without consulting him.

“Well, I can’t choose her middle name till I know her first name.”

He had chosen Gideon’s middle name, nearly five years ago when they got him back as a newborn. When Belle asked him to pick their daughter’s first name, he’d stipulated that Belle should decide their girl’s middle name.

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just… her name needs to be right. Names have great power,” he pronounced with a wave of his hand, evoking his Enchanted Forest personality.

“I don’t know…” Belle mused, looking down at their baby. “Maybe we shouldn’t take it too seriously.”

“What do you mean?” Her mood had changed, and he wasn’t sure why.

“It’s just… sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake, naming Gideon after the hero in my favorite book. On the day he was born, before I sent him away, I told him that he was strong and brave. I called him a hero for all time.”

He nodded. She’d told him that before.

“That’s a lot of expectation to place on someone who’s less than an hour old. Not that I regret choosing it, really, because now he’s Gideon. He’s  _our_  Gideon, and I wouldn’t change him for anything. But… if the mother I am now could go back to that moment, knowing what I know now, I think I might pick something simpler?” She shrugged. “Just something unpretentious, that sounds pretty when we say it.”

There was a light knock at the door and Granny’s gray head poked in. “Are you ready for visitors? Or one, at least? Someone out here is getting mighty impatient to meet his little sister.”

“Of course, Granny,” Belle said with a smile. “Send him in.”

“Here comes our first happy beginning,” Rumple murmured, leaving the bed to greet Gideon at the door. He didn’t want the small boy to throw himself at his tired and sore mother in his excitement. He scooped him up as he ran in and the door shut behind Granny.

“Baby?” he asked, pointing toward the bed. “Baby sister?”  

“Yes,  m’boy… and she’s bonny.”

“Come over and meet her,” Belle encouraged, holding a hand out to her firstborn.

As Rumple had feared, Gideon tried to lunge out of his arms and jump onto his mother’s lap as soon as he was close to the bed. But he was ready for him, pulling him back into his arms and holding him firmly.

“Gideon, look at me.” He waited till he was sure he had the boy’s attention. “Remember what we talked about? You can’t run and jump on Mommy, or the baby. You have to be very, very gentle.”

“Like with kittens,” Gideon parrotted back, proving he remembered their previous discussions on this topic.

“That’s right… so I’m going to set you down next to Mommy, and you’re going to move slowly and give nice touches, right?”

“Nice touches,” Gideon repeated, nodding seriously.

Rumple made eye contact with Belle, who nodded, transferring their newborn to the crook of her opposite arm so she could hold the other out to Gideon. He placed the small boy – who suddenly looked very grown up next to his sibling – on the bed next to her. Gideon cuddled to her side with his eyes fixed on his baby sister, looking almost intimidated.

“She so little,” he whispered.

“Mm-hmm. And she’s going to be little for a long time, till she starts to grow. That’s why she needs a big brother.”

He reached toward the baby but drew his hand back, looking at his parents. “Can I touch?”

“Yes, if you’re very gentle. Here, let me show you.” Rumple leaned over and brushed his fingertips over the fuzz that passed for hair on the baby’s head, barely touching her. “Now you,” he instructed, taking Gideon’s hand in his own. He guided him in lightly stroking the small head, his mouth hanging open in awe.

“Hi, Bonnie,” he whispered. “I your big brother.”

Rumple shared an amused look with Belle.

“Gideon, sweetie… why did you call her Bonnie?”

“Papa said,” Gideon replied, pointing to Rumple and looking confused. “Papa said she Bonnie.”

“So I did,” Rumple confirmed. “Do you think that would be a good name for her, Gideon?”

He nodded emphatically, his bangs bouncing on his forehead. “Uh-huh.”

Rumple considered, but only for a few seconds. He hadn’t planned to choose that name, but somehow, hearing Gideon say it just sounded right. He gave Belle a questioning look. “Bonnie?” he asked, just to be sure. “It’s simple, and pretty, and unpretentious.”

“Bonnie,” Belle confirmed. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” She leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“Now she just needs a middle name,” Rumple bent over Gideon to drop his own sweet kiss on the top of her head.

“I give her kiss?” Gideon asked.

“Of course.” Belle held Bonnie out to him and Rumple slipped one hand under Gideon’s chest to support him, preventing him from falling as he leaned over to press his mouth to Bonnie’s button nose with the lightest of contact. Rumple caught his breath at this first sign of affection between his two children, and his beautiful wife blinking away tears at the sight.

“We play together, Bonnie?” Gideon asked this of the sleeping newborn with such a hopeful expression, that Rumple was reluctant to disappoint him.

“She won’t be able to do much for a while, m’boy,” he said to their son, while Belle looped one arm around him to pull him back to her side. “She has some growing to do first.”

“So what she do?” Gideon asked, a picture of consternation as he tried to figure out how one might pass the time if not constantly playing and exploring.

“Well, she’ll sleep a lot, and eat, and poop in her diaper…” Belle listed off.

“Ewww,” was Gideon’s response, holding his nose at the mere thought of a stinky diaper.

“And she’ll cry a lot, especially when she’s hungry or sleepy or wants to be held,” Rumple added.

“Can I hold her?” Gideon asked.

“If you’re very careful,” Rumple said. Belle shot him a concerned look. “It’s all right, we’re both right here.” He helped Gideon sit up with his legs crossed, creating a natural cradle for the baby to lie in, and placed a soft pillow across his legs before nodding to Belle.

“You have to put your arm under her head, okay Gideon? She can’t hold it up by herself.” Slowly, Belle lowered Bonnie into their son’s waiting arms, making sure that her head landed in the crook of Gideon’s elbow.

He immediately held the small body close to him, drawing a whine of protest from her.

“Not so tight, Gideon. Here, I’ll show you.” Rumple helped him to relax his grip, showing him that it was okay to let her weight sink into the pillow, as long as he kept his arms around her. Bonnie whined again at being moved around so much.

“It okay, Bonnie. We all here,” Gideon told her.

“Yes, we are,” Belle confirmed. “We’re a family, and we’re all here.”

She reached out her free arm to Rumple, pulling him in for a kiss over their children’s heads. Foreheads touching, they looked down on their beautiful children. He didn’t know what good deeds he’d done in a former life to be so blessed with his family, but he’d accept them gratefully… and never let them go.


	8. The Best Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A post-7x04 fic, with more first birthday fluff. 
> 
> Reminder that I'm on Tumblr with this same username, and all my fics get posted there as well.

At five minutes till eleven, the gates to Granny’s opened and guests started arriving.  Snow and David were first, little Neal in his mother’s arms squirming to get down as soon as he saw the toys scattered around Gideon’s high chair. Ashley and Sean entered with little Alexandra, who was not so little now, compared to their own toddler.

Granny came out from her diner to join the party on the patio, barking a sharp command over her shoulder to “stop eating each other’s faces off and come join the party!” to Ruby and Dorothy.

Regina came through the gate next, carrying Robin Mills. “Zelena asked me to bring her,” she responded in answer to Belle’s inquiry about the other Mills sister. “She said she wasn’t up to a party today, but didn’t want Robin to miss out.”

Thanking gods he didn’t believe in for that small mercy, Rumple turned his attention to his grandson, who followed his mother, holding two gifts. Violet carried a gift bag as well.

“Henry…. What do you have there?”

“I can’t tell you, Grandpa. That would spoil the surprise for my nephew,” Henry said with an easy grin.

“I thought he was your uncle?” Violet asked.

“Oh, he is… but Henry seems to think it’s strange that his uncle is younger than him, and insists on reversing their titles,” Regina explained.

“ _That’s_  the thing you think is strange about your family?” Violet asked.Henry shrugged.

“We’ve all tried to argue the point, but….” Rumple spread his hands in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture.

“But stubbornness runs in the family,” Belle finished for him, coming over with Gideon on her hip and giving her husband an affectionate elbow to the side. “This little one’s already showing it.”

“Eh-wee!!” Gideon shrieked, reaching toward Henry.

“Here, let me take that. Looks like your…  _nephew_  wants some Uncle Henry time.”

Rumple took the gift from his grandson, leaving his hands free to take Gideon. He loved watching his grandson and son together. From the beginning, Henry had taken an interest in their child, and he’d started visiting more often now that Gideon was a year old and could do more than eat and sleep. Rumple sincerely hoped that the bond between them continued to develop.

With a jerk of his head, he indicated to Violet to follow him to the gift table, which was already half full even though only a few guests had arrived.

He turned back around to the party in time to see Moe French enter and exchange a hug with his daughter. Belle took Gideon from Henry, who wandered off with Violet to join the party, and handed their son to Moe. It was impossible to hear what he said to Gideon at this distance, but a well-placed tickle of the ribs had the little boy laughing, squirming to get away. Moe was smiling as well, till he saw Rumple watching them. He gave a neutral nod of acknowledgement and gave Gideon back to Belle, finding himself a seat on the other side of the growing crowd.

The small patio area filled up in no time, and some of the guests spilled into the interior of Granny’s, where she had a buffet waiting for everyone to help themselves. There was also a bar – an ice cream bar. No alcoholic beverages would be served today, though Rumple saw the pirate sneaking sips from his flask as he entered with Emma.

They were followed by Ariel and Eric, who brought the two children they were currently fostering and hoped to adopt. Belle directed them to a corner where she’d set up some “big-kid” games; Rumple knew she’d been worried that the pre-teens would claim boredom at a one-year-old’s birthday party, but it never occurred to her not to invite Ariel’s family. The two of them had become great friends and Belle had sympathized with her friend’s difficulties in conceiving a child of her own. The mermaid and her husband seemed much happier since they gave up on having a biological child and started pursuing adoption.

Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip arrived with little Phillip, and soon after, the center of the outdoor seating area had been cleared for the under-five population to play.

As advertised, the Charmings had brought bubble wands. When they brought out not just one or two, but enough for every guest at the party to have one, the air was soon filled with hundreds of glimmering spheres, catching the sunlight and reflecting rainbow colors that were gone as soon as they appeared. Gideon and Neal, along with Alexandra, Phillip, Robin, and every other child young enough to be interested, were gathered together on a blanket in the middle of the patio, while the adults stood around and blew bubbles over their heads. The children old enough to blow bubbles, but still young enough to think they were fun, quickly abandoned their own wands in favor of chasing and popping the ones already floating around.

After a few moments of that, Rumple decided to give the activity a magical boost. Focusing on one bubble, he made sure it wouldn’t pop then started to enlarge it, while lowering it toward his son. A moment later, Gideon sat inside the bubble, mouth open as he regarded the shimmering walls around him. He reached out and patted it, his fingers opening and closing as if trying to hold it. The other small children around him stopped paying attention to the bubbles still floating down, staring at Gideon instead. Planting his hands on the ground, he got his feet under him and stood up, wobbling but managing to stay upright, and reached again for the shiny barrier. Rumple increased the size of the bubble to accommodate Gideon’s full height, and let him play with it for a moment longer before making it disappear, without even the tiniest splash of soapy spray that might burn his son’s eyes.

“Me, me!” Alexandra jumped up. “I want one! Mommy, can I have one?” she appealed to Ashley.

“See what you’ve started?” Belle asked Rumple, with a radiant smile. “Now you’ll have to do that for all of them.”

Rumple hadn’t foreseen that, though perhaps he should have. But it was an unfamiliar sensation to him, to have small children clamoring for his magic. It was a nice change, if he was honest with himself.

Regina and Emma immediately said they would help, and soon enough all three of them were busy manipulating bubbles, making sure each small child – and a few not so small – had a chance to be inside one of the fragile balls.

Emma spied Henry and Violet hiding behind a potted tree to sneak a kiss, and bombarded them with a volley of bubbles that popped on impact with the young lovebirds, causing Violet to shriek in surprise and Henry to make a face as one bubble popped on his tongue as he opened his mouth to protest.

Eventually, the children lost interest in the bubbles, and Henry asked when Gideon would open his presents.  Agreeing that it was time, Rumple held Gideon on his lap while Belle opened each gift next to him.

From Henry, Gideon received a writing and drawing kit, complete with drawing paper, a baby-sized journal, crayons, and markers.

“It’s never too soon for him to practice his story-telling skills,” Henry said, as Belle opened it.

“It’s lovely, Henry,” Rumple told his grandson. It warmed his centuries-old heart, every time Henry spent time with Gideon or paid him special attention. He turned his attention to Emma as she approached.

“Killian insisted on choosing the gift himself,” she said as she handed it over. “Learned to use the Internet and everything. I actually don’t know what’s in there.”

She looked nervous, which made Rumple nervous. For all that he and the pirate had (mostly) set aside their differences in the name of maintaining peace in the family, Rumple couldn’t bring himself to fully trust him. He wouldn’t stoop so low as to turn a child’s gift into a trap, would he?

Rumple adjusted his grip on Gideon as Belle peeled away the wrapping paper, getting one hand free in case he needed to cast a quick protection spell. He tensed as Belle looked into the box, then relaxed when she started laughing.

“Oh, that’s adorable!” she exclaimed, pulling out a small shirt and turning it around for everyone to see.  _Yo, Ho, Ho, and a bottle of milk_ , it said. The next one she pulled out said,  _Arrgh… wipe me booty!_

There were more, each with a pirate theme of questionable taste. It was decidedly  _not_  what Rumple would choose for his son to wear, but at least the gift was harmless.

“Thank you, Killian and Emma,” Belle said, when she’d pulled the last shirt from the box.

Marco stepped forward and said that he and August were giving Gideon a joint gift, but it was too large to wrap. As he explained, August pulled his father’s truck up to the party and opened the back, carefully lowering a large object covered with a blanket to the ground. With Henry’s help, he carried it over to set in front of the Golds and removed the covering, to reveal a hand-carved wooden rocking horse.

Belle’s eyes lit up as soon as it was revealed. “Oh…” she breathed, reaching out to run a hand down the arched neck of the horse. “Marco… August… it’s beautiful.”

Rumple had to admit that they’d carved an unusually realistic horse from the wood, with all its various body parts proportional to each other. A black mane and tail – the latter so long that it touched the ground – were made of some sort of real hair, if Rumple’s knowledge of natural fibers didn’t fail him. The horse’s ears were pricked forward, its eyes focused ahead as though it were fixated on where it was going, and it looked like it was chomping at the bit, eager to take its young rider wherever imagination would take them that day. The rockers curved in almost a full half-circle, and he could visualize Gideon rocking it so hard that it flipped over. Hopefully, it was weighted to prevent that; he’d have to check it before allowing Gideon to mount. It was already tacked up with a size-appropriate saddle and bridle that looked like real leather. The stirrups hung down at a length that would take years for Gideon’s legs to reach, but… Rumple leaned closer, looking. Yes, the straps were adjustable. It seemed that the father and son craftsmen had thought of everything.

“I know ‘tis too big for him, now. But we thought… something for him to grow into, hmm?” Marco said.

“It’s perfect,” Belle assured them, giving them each a hug before turning back to her husband and son.  “Gideon, want to try it?”

With a smile, Rumple got up and placed their son on the saddle, keeping hold around his chubby middle.

Gideon didn’t seem to know what to make of it, at first. He patted his hands on the part of the neck that he could reach, his fingers finding the mane and tugging at it. Then he found the reins, and picked them up in both hands to flap them enthusiastically.

“Gah, gah, gah!” he shouted, bouncing in the saddle, and everyone laughed.

“Our gift kind of goes with theirs,” Snow said behind them. She bent down to press a wrapped box into Neal’s hands. “Here, sweetheart, carry this to Miss Belle.”

Waddling along on his still-unreliable legs, Neal crossed to Belle and held up his offering, babbling something incomprehensible.

“Thank you, Neal.”

She resumed her seat next to Rumple and Gideon, opening the box to find a tiny riding helmet.

“I saw Marco working on the rocking horse one day at his shop,” David explained. “We’ve already asked him to make one for Neal, and we went looking for a safety helmet. When we found it, we figured we should get one for Gideon too. I can see these two having a lot of adventures together on their noble steeds.”

“And wearing the helmet on the rocking horse should help them learn to wear one when they start riding real horses,” Snow added.

Belle thanked them and continued opening presents. There was a crocheted blanket from Granny, and a set of DVDs called Baby Einstein from Regina.

“I know you haven’t let him watch TV so far,” she said, when Belle opened the gift. “Just put those away on a shelf for now. Someday, when he’s sick or teething or you just need to have five minutes to yourself, you’ll get desperate enough to pop one in… mark my words. They saved my sanity more than once when Henry was this age.”

From Ruby and Dorothy, Gideon received an automaton figure holding a box. Hitting the figure’s various limbs in a certain sequence opened the box, where small items could be hidden.

“They’re really popular in Oz,” Ruby told them. “We thought he’d enjoy making it move and watching the box open for now, like a jack-in-the-box. Later, he can put things in there. Little boys like to hide things, right?”

The presents kept coming, and Belle lit up at each one, showing it to Gideon who responded with gurgling noises and clumsy attempts to hold each gift.

The table was empty of offerings and Rumple was ready to take Gideon inside to change his diaper, when Moe French approached with an irregular-shaped gift in his hands. Rumple still couldn’t look at the man without thinking of all the ways he’d let Belle down, but she’d decided to give her father another chance after the Black Fairy’s curse broke and Gideon was returned to them. Though Rumple disagreed, he respected her choice and had done his best to be civil to his father-in-law.

“I think you might recognize this present, Belle,” he said gruffly, as he pressed the package into her hands.

She looked at him with a clear question in her eyes, but simply turned toward Gideon so he could see her open it.

“What’s this that Grandpa’s given you, hmm?” she asked their baby. As the wrapping paper fell away, she caught her breath at the sight of the old children’s books, stacked up and tied together with twine. “These… these were mine, when I was a little girl in Avonlea. They belonged to my mother when she was a child and she gave them to me when I started learning to read.”

“I found them in the attic a while back,” Moe said, addressing only Belle. “I didn’t know they were there till then, but… I thought you might like to have them for your boy.”

“Of course! Thank you, Father!” She stood to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Being able to pass these books on to Gideon, that just… it means the world to me.”

Once all presents were opened, Belle announced it was time for cake. An elaborate cake with detailed decorations awaited the adults and any child old enough to hold a spoon competently, but of course the birthday boy had a cake all his own.

Belle wiped his face and set him in his high chair, fussing over him for a moment before she backed away and nodded to Rumple, who stood waiting. Everyone had gathered around to watch. Henry was recording on his phone.

Rumple held the small cake on its plastic plate in front of Gideon, presenting it as regally as if Gideon were on a throne.

“Gideon Rene Gold… you shall now join the ranks of all the toddlers who came before you, and participate in the time-honored tradition of… the smoosh cake.”

Bowing, he placed it on his son’s tray and stepped back, giving the boy space to do his worst.

Gideon looked at the small cake in front of him and then at his parents, a look of consternation on his face. He seemed perplexed by everyone standing around watching him, but soon enough, the baked creation in front of him caught his attention. With one cautious finger he touched the frosting, barely making contact before he drew back quickly and checked for his parents’ reaction.

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Belle encouraged.

Still using only one finger, Gideon dipped into the frosting and held his hand up, admiring the white fluff before bringing it to his lips. His eyes when wide when he tasted it – they didn’t allow much sugar in his diet, so this was probably the sweetest thing he’d ever put in his mouth. He sucked hard on his finger, trying to get every bit of flavor from it, and whined when he could no longer taste it. He withdrew his finger, studying it with a seriousness that made several people chuckle, then seemed to remember where the yumminess had come from, his eyes dropping to the small cake still on his tray. Its frosted surface was perfect, save for the one tiny divot caused by his first poke into it. Looking up at his parents one last time and seeing only smiles, he plunged both chubby hands into the cake and brought them to his lips, stuffing his mouth full.

A cheer went up from his audience, but Gideon paid them no mind. He’d figured out what to do with this gift that had been set before him, and he set about doing it with a single-minded determination. As Rumple had predicted, within moments their baby had cake not only all over his face, but also in his hair, in his ears, and smeared down the side of his neck, disappearing beneath his collar.

Gideon’s messy fun ended when he pushed the cake completely off the tray. It hit the patio with a splat and he looked down, reaching toward it and dismayed when he couldn’t get it back. His wail of disappointment seemed to signal the end of the party.

“Sorry folks, it seems the guest of honor needs his nap,” Rumple said to everyone as he unbuckled his son and picked him up, uncaring about the frosting that got on his suit as soon as the small boy wrapped his arms around his neck. A little magic would take care of that later.

He let Belle take care of the thank-yous and goodbyes, as everyone found a trash can for their plastic plates and parents herded their over-stimulated, sugar-hyped children toward the gate. She was better at dealing with the Storybrooke residents than he was, and they both knew it.

Picking up the diaper bag that they’d set on a bar stool inside the diner, he carried a whiny Gideon through to the bathroom to change him. He laid him down on the wide stretch of counter, using one hand to hold down both the baby’s fists, which were trying to rub his eyes. Finding a washcloth in the bag, he wet it under the tap and wiped Gideon’s hands clean, then his face, finally allowing him to rub his eyes. The unhappy whimpering noises he made were interrupted by a yawn, before Gideon closed his eyes and relaxed into the changing mat.

Rumple had hoped to get him cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes before he fell asleep, but seeing that it was a lost cause, he changed the little boy – wet diaper, smeared clothes, and all – with a simple thought, removing all the sticky remnants of cake from the small body while he was at it. He didn’t use magic for that sort of purpose very often. He enjoyed every moment spent with Gideon, even changing smelly diapers, and he wouldn’t miss a moment of it for anything. But in a situation like this, when magic made quick work of a task that would be difficult to accomplish with the limp and sleeping body using normal means, he felt it was justified. He took care of his own clothes while he was at it, and threw a blanket over his shoulder before picking up Gideon.

Carrying his sleeping son back through the diner, he nodded acknowledgement to Granny, Ruby, and Dorothy, who were still cleaning up. He’d compensated her well for the use of the diner and her labor in cooking the food and tidying up after; it had been a fair business transaction and he felt no guilt in leaving that work to them.

He found Belle at the gate, saying goodbye to the last few guests who were lingering. He sat down to wait for her, rocking Gideon a little, though it hardly seemed necessary.

Finally, the last person walked away with a wave, and Belle turned back to them, looking tired but happy.

“Well, everyone showed up, and Gideon got cake all over his face,” she said.

“So it was a success,” he confirmed, patting Gideon’s back.

“So many presents… and so many of them were hand-made! I’ll be busy for the next week, writing thank-you cards. I can’t decide if the rocking horse or my mother’s books were my favorite,” she mused, before nodding to herself. “My mother’s books, definitely. I’m so happy I’ll get to pass them down to Gideon; I really didn’t expect to see my childhood books, ever again.” She held her hands out in request. “I’ve hardly held him since the party started.”

Rumple passed him over carefully, then surprised Belle by tugging her down into his lap so that he held them both… wife and son, cradled in his arms.

“Want to know my favorite part of the party?” he asked, pressing a kiss to Belle’s cheek, then the top of Gideon’s head.

“Hmm?” Belle relaxed against him, letting her head rest against his, still cradling Gideon to her chest.

“This moment, right now. I’m holding the best gifts that my immortal life has ever given me.”

“Can’t wrap that, can you?” she murmured.

She adjusted position to snuggle closer, causing Gideon’s head to loll against his papa’s chest, and it was like putting the last piece in a puzzle. Everything in this moment felt right, and he wouldn’t have disturbed it for anything. They sat in the sun, resting from the excitement of the party, till Rumple feared the sunlight was too much for Gideon’s delicate skin and transported them home to finish his nap. The gifts went as well, so that Gideon could play with his new toys when he awoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gift links:
> 
> http://www.indesigntshirts.com/fuyohohoandb.html
> 
> http://www.indesigntshirts.com/arwimebofuba.html
> 
> http://www.legendsrockinghorses.co.uk/natural/cherrybow.shtml


	9. Sibling Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know who Bonnie is, back up and read chapter seven, "Kitten Touches and Butterfly Kisses" for her introduction to the family.

“No! Mine!”

Bonnie’s high-pitched shrieks echoed through the house, reaching Belle where she was spraying stain remover on a tiny flowered blouse that had once been adorable, before it was covered in green peas from today’s lunch. She gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to go and intervene in the argument between her children. They needed to learn to solve their disputes between themselves; she and Rumple had talked about this at length.

“Give it back, Bonnie!” Gideon’s shout joined the toddler’s screams before the approaching footsteps announced that her son was seeking reinforcements. Belle accepted that the laundry would have to wait, and met him at the foot of the stairs. “Mommy, she took my book and ran away with it. She can’t even read!”

At age seven, Gideon was proud of his reading ability, and his vocabulary and comprehension for printed text were increasing every day.

“All right, Gideon. I’m on it,” Belle said wearily. “Where did she run off to?”

“Papa’s study.”

The door to the study was locked, so she retrieved the key from the door ledge and pushed it open slowly in case Bonnie was sitting with her back to it, trying to hold it closed. For a two-year-old so petite that some one-year-olds matched her in size, their toddler was immensely strong.

A scan of the room did not reveal her wayward child in plain view.

“ _Bonnie… Matilda… Gold_.” Belle didn’t bother raising her voice; she had perfected the mom tone over the past two years. “You will get your cute little bottom front and center, this instant.”

After an ominous moment of silence, just long enough to make Belle wonder if her headstrong girl would choose a losing battle over surrender, the closet door was flung open and Bonnie marched out, head high and defiant eyes fixed on her mother till she came to a halt before her, feet planted wide and her little hands balled into fists at her sides.

“Where’s my book?” Gideon demanded.

“Go check the closet for it,” Belle instructed.

No sooner had Gideon taken a step forward, than Bonnie threw herself between him and the closet door.

“Mine! I want it!”

Belle simply scooped her up, indicating to Gideon with a jerk of the head that he should retrieve his book.

“Bonnie, sweetie… look at Mommy.”

She ignored her mother’s voice, eyes fixed on the closet. Belle said her name again, with no response. When Gideon emerged with the disputed item, Bonnie tried to lunge for it, but Belle was ready and held the small body snugly against herself.

“Mine! I want it! Mommy!” Bonnie started to cry, and Belle only shook her head. Their little drama queen was a future Academy Award winner, she was sure of it. They’d long ago learned to distinguish between real tears and manipulation tactics.

“No, it’s not! It’s my book!” Gideon shouted back. Even his placid nature was being tested; it wasn’t often that he shouted in anger. “You can’t even read it, you’re too little!”

Belle tapped her daughter’s nose to get her attention before she could scream back. “Bonnie, stop. And dry up the tears; we all know they’re fake anyway.” Bonnie snapped her mouth shut mid-whine and switched to a silent sulk, never missing a beat. Belle turned to her son. “Gideon, you may take your book somewhere else, if you want a quiet spot to read. Just stay in the house, please.”

He left, with Bonnie’s glare boring holes into his back. Belle sighed and sat on the sofa, letting Bonnie straddle her lap.

“ _My_  book, Mommy.” Bonnie looked up at her through her lashes. Her lower lip stuck out a little, trembling. Belle knew it was just another tactic, but it didn’t help that the little one was due for a nap. Some of her emotional distress was real, prompted by exhaustion.

“Sweetheart, just because you want something, doesn’t mean you can just take it from someone else. Besides, that was Gideon’s book.” Bonnie crossed her arms, giving an annoyed little bounce on Belle’s legs as she huffed. “You have your own books. Why don’t we go pick out one of those, and Mommy will read it to you? Hmm?” Belle tickled at her ribs, making Bonnie laugh despite her determination to keep scowling.

“Okay, Mommy.” Bonnie scrambled down, leading the way down the hall to her room, where she had her own book shelf full of age-appropriate literature.

The irony of this entire situation was, Bonnie didn’t even care for books that much. Gideon had taken to them so readily, and had loved going to the library with his mother so much, that Belle had rather assumed that any child of hers would love books as much as she did. It had been a rude awakening when her second born would rather throw books, just to see how far they would go, than look at the pictures or listen to them being read. On one memorable occasion, Rumple caught their twenty-month-old making a staircase of her toddler board books, apparently intending to escape out her nursery window. That was when he put a charm on every door and window in the house, to alert them of unauthorized exits.

They’d never had to take such measures in the nearly five years that they raised Gideon by himself, before Bonnie came along. He’d been such a calm baby, who fussed only when he really needed something. Even at a very young age, before he was even talking, they could usually reason with him long before any situation escalated into a meltdown. They’d often wondered if some echo of the twenty-eight years he’d lived previously remained with him, making him unnaturally more mature than his chronological age could explain. It was a relief when his toddler years brought more natural child-like behavior, as if those shadows of his previous life were fading with time.

All their combined parenting experience proved next to useless when Bonnie came along. This little one seemed determined to make the world bend to her will. Everything belonged to her; every situation must go her way, or else; every day was a battle. Belle’s next guesses for her daughter’s future career, after Oscar-winning actress, were soldier or criminal attorney… and she already felt sympathy for anyone who went up against this pint-sized powerhouse on the battlefield, or in the courtroom.

Running ahead, Bonnie grabbed a book off the shelf without even looking to see which one it was, and waited for Belle to seat herself in the glider before climbing into her lap. She nestled into the crook of Belle’s arm and inserted a thumb in her mouth. Belle had barely read two pages when she realized that her little warrior had fallen asleep.

Thankfully, Bonnie slept with the same single-minded determination that she did everything else. Getting her into bed was a struggle, but once she was asleep, nothing disturbed her till she was rested and once again ready to wreak havoc on the world.

Belle laid her gently into her crib, setting her velveteen rabbit next to her and covering her with the blanket that Rumple had made for her before she was born. She left the door open so she could hear Bonnie when she woke, and went in search of her firstborn.

She found him curled amongst the pillows piled on the window seat in the library, engrossed in his book. It looked like he was almost finished with it. Belle paused in the doorway, enjoying the sight. He turned the page, smiling at something.

“Which book are you reading?” Belle asked, entering the room.

Gideon looked up at the sound of her voice, but it took a moment for his eyes to focus on her. He held up the book so she could see the cover.

“Matilda.” The spat between her children had a possible explanation now. “Did you tell Bonnie the name of the book?”

“Yeah. I thought she’d just laugh that the book had her middle name, but she said it was hers!” The scowl returned to Gideon’s face.

Belle sat next to him and ruffled his dark curls before pulling him in to her side.

“She’s only two, Gideon. All two-year-olds think the world belongs to them. One day, she’ll learn to think about others.”

“Soon?” he asked hopefully.

“Not soon enough, I suspect,” she answered ruefully, and kissed the top of his head. “Why don’t you read the last few pages, then come down to the kitchen. We should have a couple hours of quiet time while she’s napping. Would you like to make some cookies with me?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes, please!”

They spent an enjoyable hour baking together, while discussing the book that he’d just finished. Belle had to laugh when Gideon said that it was a good thing that Bonnie didn’t have telekinetic powers, like Matilda. It was true that she caused enough chaos without any special powers; they were already wary of her developing magical abilities, as they assumed that Gideon eventually would.

“Do you know what the name Matilda means, Gideon?” she asked, when the first sheet of cookies was in the oven and he sat cross-legged on the counter, happily scraping the batter remnants from the mixing bowl and licking the spoon. He shook his head.

“It means ‘strength in battle,’” she told him.

“You gave her a  _warrior_  name, Mommy?” He was aghast, dropping the spoon in the bowl to stare at her. “You couldn’t have picked… I don’t know, just some name that doesn’t mean a fighter. Maybe she wouldn’t be such a pain in my butt.”

“Gideon!” she scolded.

“Sorry,” he said, picking up his spoon again and not looking at all sorry.  

“I didn’t know it meant that till after I’d picked it. It was already on her birth certificate and everything before I looked up the meaning. I chose it because it was a very common name in Avonlea, where I grew up, and I always liked it.”

“You mean… you didn’t name her after the book character, either?”

“No, I didn’t. I named  _you_  after a heroic book character, who fought many brave battles.”

“I know…” He rolled his eyes; he’d heard this story too many times before. “ _Her Handsome Hero_.”

“Yes… and I think the name suits you, but I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re destined to be a hero, just because you’re named after one.”

“You don’t think I can be a hero?” he asked, hurt.

“That’s not what I mean, sweetheart.” She took the bowl from his lap and set it aside, so she could hug him where he sat on the counter. “You’re already my little hero, and always will be. I just meant that you can grow up to be whatever you want. Don’t feel pressured to be a hero, or anything else. You will choose your own fate. Understand?”

“Yes, mommy.” She released him and he resumed his efforts to ‘clean’ the bowl.

“Of course,” she continued as she flipped on the oven light and bent down to check the cookies’ progress, “The only goal that your papa and I had when choosing your sister’s names, was to pick something pretty that we liked. And yet, we picked names that are all too appropriate for our beautiful, strong, little warrior.”

“Hm-mm,” was his only response. He’d clearly lost interest in the conversation.

“Tell you what… why don’t I call Snow and see if Neal can come by to play with you this afternoon? I think we might need some help eating these cookies. Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” he agreed eagerly. He loved his playdates with Neal.

After taking the first batch from the oven, she called Snow, who was only too happy to bring Neal over for a couple hours, so she could have some time to herself to catch up on grading papers. As soon as their guest arrived, the boys disappeared into Gideon’s room with cookies, giving Belle a moment to call Rumple at the shop and have a pleasant chat about their respective days. It was the first of the month, and he told her about the delinquent tenants he’d intimidated that morning, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

She told him about the children’s activities this morning, and when he expressed regret that he’d missed out on spending time with him, she reminded him that next Saturday, she’d be going to work at the library, while he stayed home with the kids. They agreed that he would bring dinner home tonight, before Belle heard Bonnie waking and had to cut the call short.

She passed by Gideon’s door on the way to the nursery, and peeked in to see that all the sheets, blankets, and pillows had been removed from both beds, and the two boys were busily engaged in building a blanket fort. She sighed at the prospect of re-making the beds, but said nothing. The boys were enjoying themselves, and they weren’t breaking anything.

The calls of, “Mommy I wake, Mommy I wake!” were getting louder and more insistent, so Belle hurried to her room and scooped her up from her crib, getting a full-body hug in return. Bonnie wrapped her arms around Belle’s neck, gripping with her chubby legs for more support, and nuzzled into her shoulder.

“Did you sleep well, sweetheart? Did you have nice dreams?”

“Mm-hmm,” was the only answer, followed by a yawn. Belle laughed, and patted her back.

“C’mon, sleepyhead, let’s get your diaper changed.”

The volume from Gideon’s room was increasing and carrying down the hall as Belle changed her daughter, so when that was done, she held Bonnie’s hand to keep her close and peeked into her son’s room again.

Their backs to the door, the two boys were trying to make one side of their blanket fort stay up, but it insisted on drooping. Belle stood in the doorway to watch, interested to see if they’d work it out, and Bonnie stayed quiet for once, apparently just as fascinated by the proceedings.

Finally, they found a way to prop it up, and stood back to admire it. It promptly fell again.

“I told you we should have done it the other way!” Neal accused.

“That wouldn’t work either,” Gideon retorted, bending down pick up the blanket again.

“How do you know, you stupidhead?” Neal reached out and shoved Gideon, causing him to fall back on his rear.

“No!” Bonnie yelled, and was halfway across the room before Belle could register that her daughter had let go of her hand. Bonnie launched herself at Neal with all the force her tiny body could muster, knocking him off balance and sending him careening into the fragile blanket fort.

By the time Belle reached them, Neal was blinking up at his assailant from a cloud of pillows, with sheets and blankets still settling around him. Bonnie had planted herself in front of Gideon, hands on her hips and glaring daggers at Neal.

“ _My_  brudder!” she told him. “You mean! My brudder!”

Behind her, Gideon started laughing, then Belle and Neal joined him. Bonnie looked around at all of them, adorably perplexed, till Belle picked her up.

“Were you defending Gideon, sweetheart?” she asked, still chuckling.

“My brudder,” she said again. She took Belle’s face in both her hands, leaning forward to look directly in her mother’s eyes. “ _Mine_.”

“He didn’t hurt me, Bonnie,” Gideon said from the floor, with fond exasperation. He picked himself up, and held a hand out to Neal to help him from the tangled remains of the fort. “We were just playing.”

“She didn’t know that,” Belle told him. “She saw someone attack you and ran to your defense, because she loves you.”

“Yeah, well… I guess if I were really in trouble, what you did would be pretty cool.” He reached out and tugged lightly on one of her curls. “You’re still a brat, though.” Bonnie stuck her tongue out at him.

“And equilibrium is restored,” Belle said. “Come on, my little defender. We were on our way to the kitchen for a snack. Let’s leave the boys to their fort building.”

She ruffled Gideon’s hair as she passed, getting an indignant ‘Mom!’ and carried Bonnie out of the room, hearing Neal’s voice from the hall.

“Wow… your baby sister is really strong.”

Still smiling to herself, she took Bonnie to the kitchen for milk and cookies. The rest of the afternoon passed as normal for a Saturday at home with three young children in the house. David came to pick up Neal at 4:30, and Belle told him that she should ask his son what happened when the blanket fort fell, wondering just how embellished the account would be after filtering through an eight-year-old’s imagination.

By 6:00, when Rumple was expected home, both children had had their baths and were playing upstairs. Belle met her husband at the door, taking the bags he held and setting them aside, telling him with a finger to the lips to be quiet, and led him upstairs toward Gideon’s room.

They stopped just outside the door, listening to their children’s voices.

“Remember this book, Bonnie?”

“Uh-huh. My book.”

“No, not yours… but the girl in this book is really brave and strong, like you. Want me to read some to you?”

“Uh-huh.”

There was some rustling, and a babyish giggle, and the sound of pages being riffled.

“Oh, you’ll like this part. ‘Never do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Be outrageous. Go the whole hog. Make sure everything you do is so completely crazy it’s unbelievable.’”

Their curiosity getting the better of them, Belle and Rumple peeked around the door frame. Gideon was in his bean bag, cross-legged, with Bonnie in his lap and both of them bent over the book he held. Bonnie looked up at her big brother with a frown.

“What that mean, Gee-dah?”

His lips pursed as he thought about it, then he grinned. “It means… when you fight someone bigger than you, make sure you knock them on their butt with the first hit.” He tickled her ribs. “Like you did today.”

They ducked out of sight as both children tumbled off the bean bag, book forgotten as they tickled each other mercilessly. Rumple turned to Belle and whispered.

“So… what  _exactly_  did I miss while I was at work today?”


	10. Snow Day

He knew before he opened his eyes that the weather forecasters had predicted correctly this time, and it had snowed overnight. The silence that surrounded their cabin in the woods was absolute, with every living creature huddled up in their nest or burrow. Inside was almost as quiet, the calm broken only by his wife’s quiet breathing as she slept.

He turned toward her so that she would be the first thing he saw, and opened his eyes. He could barely make out her face in the pre-dawn light, but it wasn’t necessary. He’d memorized her features long ago. She lay on her side, curled toward him, one hand lax on the mattress between them as though she’d reached for him in her sleep. The blankets had slipped down her shoulder a bit; he pulled them up to her ear, then laid his hand on top of hers under the warm covers, content to lie beside her till she was ready to wake.

“Mama? Papa?” The small voice pulled him back from the edge of sleep. He raised up on one elbow, looking over Belle’s sleeping form to their son standing in the doorway, little more than a shadow.

“Gideon. Good morning,” he greeted softly.

“I got up to pee and it’s cold,” Gideon said plaintively.

“Come around to my side, and you can climb in with us. Quietly, now. Mama’s still asleep.”

“Mmm ‘wake,” came a sleepy mumble beside him. Her eyes were closed, but her smile confirmed that she was somewhat aware.

Rumple reached down to lift Gideon into the bed with them, waiting till he’d scooted down between them and cuddled up to Belle – who wrapped her arms around him, eyes still closed – before lying back down himself, tucking the blankets securely around their shoulders. He made the fires blaze up with just a thought, satisfied from the crackling sound that the cabin would soon be warm, and laid down behind Gideon, reaching out to enclose both son and wife in his arm. Belle kissed Gideon’s forehead, finding it on the first try though she was still more asleep than awake.

The small body in the middle fidgeted for a few moments, till his parents’ warmth lulled him into relaxing again. With a yawn, he closed his eyes and fell asleep with his face next to Belle’s and his wild curls tickling Rumple’s chin. Content with his family close, Rumple closed his eyes as well, and they all dozed a little longer while the cabin air warmed and the sun rose higher.

The room was bright by the time they got out of bed; the rays of the morning sun reflecting off the snow made it seem like noon, though it was still early. It didn’t take long for Gideon to notice the winter wonderland, face plastered to the window and shrieking in delight before running from the room in his footsie pajamas.

Following at a less frantic speed, they found him trying to jump up and reach the deadbolt on the front door.

“Not so fast, son.” Rumple scooped him up. “You need breakfast before going out to play in the snow.”

“Not to mention, proper snow gear so your cute little tushie doesn’t freeze off,” Belle said, tapping his nose. “We brought your snowsuit, and your boots. We can all get dressed and go out right after breakfast.”

“I not hungry,” he said quickly. “Go out now?”

“A hot breakfast will keep your tummy warm out there,” Rumple told him, bouncing him a bit and tickling the tummy in question. Gideon pouted.

“Please go out?” he pleaded, his brown eyes as big and round as a cocker spaniel’s begging for a treat.

Belle sighed, and Rumple knew it was over. Neither of them were very good at saying no to their son, unless it was a health or safety issue. This almost was, but not quite.

“Maybe we could go out to play for a little while, and then come in to eat?” Belle said. “It’ll give us a chance to warm up a bit before going back out.”

“YAY!” Gideon lunged out of Rumple’s arms to wrap himself around his mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, mommy.”

“So I get to be the bad guy this time?” Rumple asked.

Belle shrugged. “It’s your turn.”

“Fine,” he relented. “You two go out. I’ll stay in to cook breakfast and when I say it’s ready, you come in to eat without complaint. Yes?”

“Yes, Papa,” Gideon agreed, wiggling to get down.

He ran to his room as soon as Belle set him down, and Rumple followed, saying that he would help Gideon put his snow suit on while she got herself ready. In no time, they were running outside, Gideon falling dramatically backward into the snow and screaming when the powdery cold stuff poofed up around him, putting out his tongue to catch random snowflakes as they drifted back down.

Rumple stood on the porch, smiling to himself when Belle laid down beside Gideon and fanned her arms and legs, showing him how to make a snow angel. He watched for another moment, letting himself appreciate the quiet joy of seeing the two people he loved most in the world so happy together, before going inside.

Turning his attention to breakfast, he took out the ingredients he wanted and started water boiling on the stove, stealing glances out the window as he worked. By the time he had bacon sizzling in the pan, Belle and Gideon were rolling snowballs around the yard, making them bigger and bigger with every circuit. He didn’t need to hear his son’s voice when he stopped and gestured at his snowball, now almost to his knees. He knew from the body language what he was saying.  _Look how big it’s getting, Mama!_  And Belle stopped rolling her own ball to clap her hands, her smile so big and proud that Rumple could see it from here.

Their son was so loved, and because of that, was a happy, carefree child, with total faith that his parents would always be there for him. That knowledge gave Rumple a warmth that had nothing to do with the flames blazing in the fireplace behind him, or the stove giving off heat as well as mouth-watering smells.

He almost hated to interrupt them for breakfast, but he didn’t want the food to get cold, either. He could have cast a spell to keep it warm indefinitely, of course, but he’d drastically cut back on using magic for such everyday tasks.

He stood on the porch and called them in, answering Gideon’s groan of protest with a reminder that he’d promised to come in without complaint when called. His boy’s chubby cheeks were red with cold when he came up the steps.

“We’re building a snowman, Papa!”

“Oh, is that what you were doing with those huge snowballs?” he asked with exaggerated surprise, picking Gideon up.

“Uh-huh. Papa, will our snowman come to life? Like Frosty?”

“He asked me that,” Belle said, stomping the snow from her boots as she mounted the steps. “I told him that where magic is concerned, he should ask you.”

Her cheeks were just as red as Gideon’s, and her breath puffed out in the cold air. Her eyes sparkled with merriment, and wisps of her hair escaped her hat, curling around her face.

He couldn’t resist pulling her close for a kiss, feeling how cold her nose was as it brushed against his, how her lips were cold too but inside her mouth it was so very warm.

“Down, Papa!” Gideon’s boot kicked him in the stomach as he pushed at Rumple’s shoulder, trying to get down. “Want to play.”

“Oh, no…. time to go inside for some breakfast.”

“And for us to warm up,” Belle added.

“But you kissing!” Gideon accused, making them laugh.

“Alright then, let’s go inside.”

Belle deftly pulled off Gideon’s snow boots as Rumple held him, then stepped on the welcome mat to remove her own before following them into the house.

Anticipating that they would need to thaw when they came in, Rumple had pushed the coffee table close to the fireplace and set it with their breakfast. Bacon, croissants with jam, oatmeal, fresh fruit, and a pot of tea awaited them, with hot chocolate for Gideon.

“This is wonderful, Rumple. Thank you for staying in to make breakfast. We had fun out there in the snow, didn’t we, baby?”

“Um-hmm,” he nodded, his face already smeared with raspberry jam as he devoured a croissant. He swallowed and asked, “Will you play with us after breakfast, Papa?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, pretending to think about it. Belle gazed at him over the edge of the chipped cup as she sipped her tea, her smile half hidden. He was fooling no one.

“Pleeease, Papa?”

The deal-maker in him couldn’t resist negotiating, just a little. Best to use leverage when he had it; Gideon had them wrapped around his finger most of the time, and everyone knew it.

“Well, if you eat a good breakfast, and then go to the bathroom before you put your snowsuit back on, I’ll come out to play with you.”

“Yay!” Gideon yelled, and Rumple gladly accepted a hug and a very sticky kiss. “Will you make the snowman dance?”

Looking at his boy’s bright eyes and happy smile, Rumple knew that a snowman would indeed dance before the day was done.


	11. Your Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Precious Moments series now has its own playlist, courtesy of Missy! (AKA madasateacup on Tumblr, and belizafryler here on AO3.) You can listen to it here on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/12129212791/playlist/67UBKIHXw7qR3e7HhN1RCN?si=NgMOcQ_zSYKZOA3ImtJLTA

“May I be excused?” Gideon asked, as soon as he took his last bite of omelet.

“You might want to finish chewing that first,” Rumplestiltskin told him. “Slowly, now. I know you want to get back to your book, but you can’t read if you’re choking.”

Gideon swallowed and opened his mouth to show that the food was gone.

“Close your mouth, Gideon,” Belle said. “Put your plate in the dishwasher and then you may be excused.”

He hurried to do as he was told, and was gone from the kitchen with a slap of his bare feet on the tiles. They both released long-suffering sighs.

“I didn’t think I’d regret Henry introducing Gideon to the Harry Potter books, but ever since he started reading the first one, it’s like we don’t see him. Or even if he’s in the room, he barely speaks to us.”

It was true that Gideon had become less and less social with them, since learning to read fluently. The change had been gradual over the past year or so, but had finally become so noticeable this morning, as Gideon sat at the table shoving food in absently as he read the book next to his plate, that they had forbidden him from having books in the kitchen.

“I never thought I’d see you telling him  _not_ to read,” he said, trying to hold back a smile as he stood from the table.

“I’m doing a lot of things as a parent that I never thought I’d do.”

They worked together to clear away breakfast and he gave her a kiss as he shrugged on his jacket. She made a final adjustment to his tie before smoothing his lapels.

“Try not to terrorize our Storybrooke residents too much, hmm?” she asked, looping her arms around his waist.

“That depends entirely on whether they have their rent money,” he returned, idly tidying her hair where it fell from her messy updo. “I can’t go too easy on them. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Mmm. I think that reputation has taken some damage in the past few years, thanks to a certain someone.”

“Oh, if you’re looking for someone to blame for bringing out my softer side, I think you should look in the mirror,” he retorted.

“I may have started the process, but it took someone else to reduce the Dark One to senseless baby talk in public.”

They both glanced over to where Gideon, now eight, curled up in a chair. There were crumbs still visible on his shirt and he was thoroughly engrossed in the book he was reading.

“Point taken,” he smiled, with no sign that being ‘reduced’ to a besotted papa bothered him in the least. “As long as the residents still fear me enough to pay their rent, I don’t care what else they think.”

With a final kiss on her nose, he stepped back.

“Gideon. Time to collect the rent. Want to come along with your Papa?”

“Hmm?” Gideon looked up from his book, an unfocused look in his eyes. “No, thank you. I want to read my book.”

“Your book will still be there later,” he cajoled. “Don’t you want to spend the day with your Papa?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like rent day,” he confessed. “Can’t I just stay here, Papa?””

Rumple sighed. “All right. Maybe we can do something together later.”

Gideon hummed in a vague way as he turned the page.

“He’d rather read a book than make money,” Rumple commented to Belle as she walked with him to the door. “That’s  _your_ child.”

“Yes, he is,” she agreed, looking back at their son fondly. “And yours.”

“He’s spending less and less time with me, as he gets older.”

“Rumple… he  _adores_  you. As do I. Don’t worry so much,” she cajoled, giving him one of her radiant smiles.

He nodded and left, but the worry gnawed at him as he made his rounds, collecting rent. When Gideon was returned to them as a newborn, when they were granted that second chance to raise him, Rumplestiltskin swore to himself that he would never take that gift for granted. He’d lost his first son, in a final way that not even magic could undo. He wouldn’t lose his second son by slow increments, watching the boy drift away from him simply because they had nothing in common.

Gideon no longer showed much interest in the pawnshop, though when he was a little tot he delighted in taking apart or destroying any merchandise he could get his chubby hands on – the more valuable, the better. He didn’t enjoy collecting rent from tenants anymore, either… something else he’d relished when little. He’d dress up in his miniature three-piece suit, and walk alongside his Papa from one residence and business to the next. He’d cross his arms and attempt to copy Rumple’s glare whenever a tenant was delinquent on their payment. As the years passed however, he enjoyed rent day less and less.

Rumple suspected that Gideon was simply too gentle a soul to enjoy threatening someone, or negotiating harsh new terms that would allow the renters to fulfill their debt. If it were up to him, late fees would be calculated in cookies. Every petitioner that came to the shop seeking magical help for their problems would be granted it, with no price to pay.

Gideon had inherited Belle’s love of books and knowledge, but none of Rumple’s shrewdness or love of deal-making. He could only hope that they’d find common ground again as his boy grew older. Perhaps when he developed magical abilities, which they suspected would happen with puberty, perhaps then he’d seek his father’s counsel.

Hours later, Rumplestiltskin paused outside Granny’s to call home. It was almost lunchtime, and perhaps he could order something to take to his family.

“Belle,” he greeted when she answered. “Are you and Gideon getting hungry for lunch?”

“Oh, he’s definitely hungry,” she answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Is something funny?” he asked.

“Remember how we made a new rule this morning? No books in the kitchen?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And remember that we made it a rule, back when he was little, that he couldn’t eat food anywhere  _outside_  the kitchen?”

“Ahh.” He was starting to understand. “He has himself a dilemma, does he?”

“Does he ever,” she laughed. “He started to complain about being hungry a while ago, but when I told him he could get himself a snack, he said ‘just one more page’ and kept reading. He hasn’t moved from his chair since you left, but he keeps glancing toward the kitchen. I’m just watching to see which obsession wins.”

Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help chuckling, able to picture the scene all too clearly. Their boy was a bottomless pit, especially when going through one of his frequent growth spurts. Food ranked as a high priority for Gideon, but then, so did books.

“Tell him if he can last thirty more minutes, I’ll bring home lunch from Granny’s,” Rumple promised.

He heard Belle relay the offer, and then Gideon whining, “But I’m hungry now!”

“You can get yourself a snack,” Belle said, still distant through the phone. “We wouldn’t want you to faint from hunger in the next thirty minutes.” Her voice grew louder again as she returned to the phone. “You can bring lunch. I think he’ll survive till you get here. He still hasn’t moved.”

A short time later, Rumplestiltskin arrived back home with burgers and iced teas balanced in his hands. Belle met him at the door, taking the tray of drinks from him and holding a finger to her lips. She jerked her head toward the kitchen before tip-toeing to the doorway. He followed, confused, till she stopped at the door and pointed across the room, where the kitchen’s other entrance led to the living room.

Gideon lay on his belly in the doorway, feet kicked up behind him and looking very pleased with himself as he read his book, which laid open on the floor on the living room side of the doorway. He turned a page and reached into a bowl of chips, conspicuously placed on the  _kitchen_  side of the doorway. Taking a large handful, he crunched on his snack, his eyes never leaving the page.

A smile grew on Rumplestiltskin’s face. “Clever lad. He found a loophole.”

“Of course he did.” Belle set the drinks down, and turned to take the bag from him. “He’s  _your_ child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based in part on this post that Leni-ba tagged me in: http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/158436906983/tastefullyoffensive-a-lawyer-in-the-making-via


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